Hold On
by Jameson Rook
Summary: "Sir, you can't pass this line." The uniform said, his arm outstretched to stop Ryan's progress. Ryan snarled low in his throat and shoved his badge in the young officer's face. "Detective Ryan, homicide. If you don't let me through, I swear to God, I will have your badge for breakfast." Javier has a breakdown, and for once, Kevin can't stop the spiral. Credit to The Black Sluggard


_** Disclaimer: Castle and all of its characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, Terri Edda Miller, and ABC Studio productions. "Loser" belongs to Three Doors Down. The title comes from "Hold On" by Good Charlotte. **_

_** I cannot claim any ownership of the spring board idea that brought this fic about. That completely belongs to **_**The Black Sluggard**_**and I think that all of the credit should go directly that way. I'm just the halfway point between idea and putting it on paper. I hope you guys enjoy this idea. **_

_** WARNING: CONTAINS SOME STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, AND SUICIDE. **_

**You're getting closer to pushing me off of life's little edge,**

**'Cause I'm a loser.**

**Sooner or later, you know I'll be dead. **

**You're getting closer, I'm holding the rope, and I'm taking the fall,**

**'Cause I'm a loser.**

**I'm a loser, yeah. **

__"You can't steal me Lucky Charms!" Kevin mocked in his best Irish accent. He scowled at the red box in front of him as he chased tiny, blue marshmallow moons around his cereal bowl. He'd always hated the tiny leprechaun for the way that he mocked his heritage.

Jenny had gone out of town for the weekend for her high school friend's wedding, leaving him with nothing but a note reminding him that Chinese food every night for dinner wasn't a 'healthy diet'. That coupled with the fact that neither of his partners were speaking to him was more than enough reason for him to be sitting on his couch in his Huckleberry Hound boxer shorts and white t-shirt, eating sugar cereal and watching the news.

He was halfway through his second (or maybe third) bowl (it was really a metal salad bowl) when the news anchor touched his ear with a panicked look on his face. The screen quickly was filled with feed from a chopper cam over Central Park.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're bringing you live footage from Central Park where a crazed man has begun open firing on patrons. Preliminary reports are saying that there are already nine people severly injured, the number of dead is not known just yet. Our own Phillip Armstrong is on scene. Phillip?" A tall, thin man with a dark mustache and a cheesy combover hair-do filled the screen.

"Thanks, Don. As you can see, people here are in a panic." The man was crouched behind the cover of a news van. "We've got a visual on the shooter, who seems to have taken a hostage."

The camera panned around the front of the van and zoomed in until the viewfinder found a man with his arm tucked around a small blonde woman. The woman was shaking and tears streamed down her pale face as the man pressed the barrel of the pistol against her head.

Kevin squinted at the television as he waited for the picture to refocus. When it did, the metal salad bowl clattered to the floor as he lost control of his own limbs, his jaw hanging open in shock. An all consuming feeling of numbing anxiety swept over him as the dark mocha eyes stared into the camera lens. He shook his head vehemently, denying the sight in front of him to the silence of his apartment. There was no one there to hear his pleas for it to be a bad dream that was overtaking him.

"No..." He whimpered, praying to God that his eyes were deceiving him. It was when the camera caught the glimmer of a gold cross around the man's neck, his tanned skin contrasting drastically with the the precious metal, that Kevin knew that it wasn't a nightmare.

**x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x xx x **

"Sir, you can't pass this line." The uniform said, his arm outstretched to stop Ryan's progress. There was a long line of police cars that served as a barrier between the city and the chaos that had erupted on the other side of the serene Oak trees. Ryan snarled low in his throat and shoved his badge in the young uniform's face.

"Detective Ryan, homicide. If you don't let me through, I swear to _God_, I will have your badge for breakfast." He snapped, his voice gravelly and low as he spoke. The younger man, Pierce, as he recalled from the name on the shining badge, gave him a startled look before stepping out of the way.

Kevin think of a time when he'd sprinted as fast as he had across Central Park. Javier had his back to a large Oak tree, the woman still standing stalk still in his grasp. He skidded to a stop when the gun swung from the woman's head and pointed directly at him.

Javier's eyes were wild and clouded with a hazy insanity that Kevin had never seen before. He stared back at the skeleton of his partner, and his palms began sweating profusely. His heart pounded in his throat as he moved closer, his hands held up by his head to show Javier that he wasn't armed.

"Javi, what the hell do you think you're going?" He called, his voice hoarse from the tears that had escaped his eyes on the drive over. Javier stared at him, the icy glare sending shivers down his back.

"What does it matter to you, Kevin? It's not like you give a damn what happens to me. Or Kate. So much for a code among partner's, eh?" Javier gave a sadistic laugh as he drove the barrel further into the woman's head.

"What's your name?" Kevin gestured to the woman. She flicked a nervous glance at Javier. When he didn't say anything, she swallowed and took a deep breath before answering.

"K-Kristen." She whimpered.

"My name is Kevin, Kristen. Can I call you Kris?" He questioned. The woman gave a short, jerky nod in response. That was hostage situation 101. Establish a personal bond with the hostage if you can, that way it's easier to convince them that everything is going to be okay. A calm hostage generally equals a calm suspect. He took half a step closer.

"Stop, Kevin." Javier snarled. Kevin froze, his muscles tense.

"Think about this, Javier. This isn't _you_. Come on, man, talk to me." He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I'm your partner. 'Til the wheels fall off, remember?"

"You laid down the spike strip the day that you threw me and Beckett to the wolves, Ryan. It's _your_ fault that the wheels went flat, NOT mine!" He hissed, sweat beading along his forehead. Kevin took a couple more experimental steps closer, testing the waters. When Javier didn't react, he stepped closer again.

"You know that I had to do that, Javier. You and Beckett were chasing something that was going to get you guys killed. Hell, it almost _did_ get you guys killed." If anything had ever happened to you guys, I don't know what I would have done." He heard the shifting of feet behind him, but he brushed it off. He knew that if he looked over his shoulder, Javier's gaze would follow his.

Truth be told, they both knew what was coming next. They'd both fought through enough hostage situations to know that the SWAT team had been mobilized the second that the first unit had arrived on scene. They both knew that they didn't have much time left before they closed in.

"Why'd you do this, Javi?" Kevin whispered. Javier seemed to search his mind, his eyes flicking back and forth nervously.

"Without my badge, I am _nothing_, Kevin. I don't...Lanie's gone. You're gone. Beckett and Castle are gone. And now, my badge. I have nothing left, Kevin." He sighed. There was something in his voice that broke Kevin's heart. It was the sound of a man that had been through hell and back, and was just tired of the pain that he'd endured.

"You're not nothing. You're my partner. My brother. You're my best friend, bro." Kevin replied, his voice quivering with unshed tears. The gun in Javier's hand waivered briefly as an indescribable emotion scorched across his features.

"That's not enough anymore." Javier replied. Kevin saw him suck in a deep breath, his eyes focused on a spot over Kevin's shoulder. "They're getting closer, Kev."

"I know, bro. That's why you gotta let Kris go. We'll get you a good lawyer, and we'll see if we can get your sentence lowered. Maybe you can even plead temporary insanity. Spend your sentence in a cushy rubber room. I've got your back in this, bro, I'm not going anywhere." Kevin pleaded, his eyes still locked on Javier's face.

"You know that I can't do that. A cop in prison? That's a horror movie waiting to happen." Javier gave a rueful chuckle and shook his head. "You're my best friend too, Kev. I love you like a brother that I never had. Remember that." Kevin felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sound of the finality in his partner's voice.

Time seemed to slow to almost a halt as Javier pushed Kristen away from him. The shouted orders of the SWAT team behind him fell away as his eyes locked with his partner's. The sulfuric smell of gun powder mixed with the scorched flesh filled the air. Kevin sprinted forward, his arms and legs pumping vigorously, until he dropped to his knees beside the crumpled body of his partner.

He pulled Javier's head into his lap carefully, ignoring the warm blood seeping into the weave of denim in his jeans. His hands were quivering as he ran his fingers over the blood stained side of his best friend's face, avoiding the hole in Jaive'rs temple. He sobbed quietly, his shoulders shaking as he removed the smoking gun from Esposito's hand and tucked his head against Javier's chest.

Kevin couldn't tell you when it was that the SWAT guys had pulled him off of Javier's body, but the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of Central Park, watching the man that he trusted with his life being loaded into the back of an ambulance in a body bag.

He stood there, staring at the blood matted grass at the base of the Oak tree until long after the forensic team had left, and the sky had crackled with dry lightning and rain that soaked his clothes, making them cling to his body. When he finally allowed himself to accept that he had witnessed the breakdown of a man that he considered a saint, and he'd seen the light going out of his partner's eyes, he shuffled back to his car and sank into the driver's seat. He stared at the steering wheel before pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.

Kate answered on the second ring, and he tried his best to ignore the lewd remarks and giggles that he heard from, what he could only assume to be, Castle in the background.

"Hey, Ryan, what's up?" Beckett questioned, a giggle lingering in her own voice as well. He shook the image of the two of them strewn across Castle's bed wearing nothing but a smile.

"Kate, there's..." His breath hitched and he shook his head. "There's something I have to tell you."

"What's wrong, Ryan?" All of the laughter had gone from her voice when she spoke the second time. Kevin thought of a million different ways that he could break the news to her, but, in all the time that he'd known Katherine Beckett, he'd never seen her react to anything quite the way that she reacted to straight forward honesty. He took a deep breath as the tears that were choking him finally spilled over and he swallowed a silent sob.

"Javier killed himself. He's gone, Kate. He's gone..."

**I'm getting old, I can't break these chains that I hold,**

**My body's growing cold, there's nothing left of my mind or my soul. **

**Addiction needs a pacifier, the buzz of this poison is taking me higher.**

**And this will fall away, this will fall away.**

**You're getting closer to pushing me off of life's little edge.**

**'Cause I'm a loser,**

**Sooner or later,**

**You know I'll be dead.**

_**Much love,**_

_** J. Rook**_


End file.
